


God's Menu

by brieflygorgeous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Cannibalism, Delivery Boy Felix, East Asian Mythology, Gen, Horror, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Korean Mythology, Minor Violence, Spooky, Typical Night Vale Violence, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, Weird Plot Shit, this does not take place in night vale but maybe it could
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brieflygorgeous/pseuds/brieflygorgeous
Summary: Felix is an ordinary boy trying to balance life between a precarious delivery app job and the weird things prawling in the city (and in his house). One day, he gets an order for a mysterious dish named God's Menu.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 54





	God's Menu

**Author's Note:**

> this story has been on my mind since the first go-live teaser with the kitchen scene and the whole cooking concept, it reminded me so much of a book series called "rupert wong, cannibal chef" that i just HAD to write something inspired by it! cassandra khaw (the writer) saw me tweeting about it and she apparently wants to read this fic?????? im still so asdfhjkdshlfkjds CASSANDRA IF YOURE READING THIS ILY go check her out @casskhaw on twitter!!!!
> 
> this is also inspired by the podcast "welcome to night vale" for that quirky, ominous vibe <3
> 
> i hope you have fun reading it!!!

_**Hi, Felix!** _

_**You have a new delivery request:** _

_**client:** hyunjin's 24 hour delight_

_**item:** god's menu_

_**recipient's address:** xxx_

**_take order?_ **

**_> yes / no_ **

  
  


There is exactly only half a can of redbull sitting in the fridge, running on three days decarbonizing through its open lid until it became the semi-syrupy substance Felix calls his dinner for the night. He’s consumed way more questionable and scarce meals before, so after contemplating the greasy window of the kitchen for nearly ten minutes and only getting the usual defeated grumbling of an empty stomach as a side effect, he accepts the order on his phone.

“Mom, I’m gonna head out for the night!”

The electricity has been cut off for a week now after Mom’s spent the last of Felix’s tips on an amateur witchcraft book that has brought them nothing but an unwanted guest in the form of the indistinguishable guttural moaning coming from under the living room couch. Mom refuses to acknowledge her mistakes, as per usual, and remains face down on the floor, unmoving, in what is possibly her longest casual nap for the last three days.

Passive-aggressiveness is the only language they know as a family, so Felix nudges her side with the tip of his sneakers, right over where he knows there’s a scar from the last time she tried sacrificing her left kidney to the voices inside her head. That hasn’t really worked out, and the voices have grown so loud Felix thinks the strange liquid oozing out of her ears are beginning to whisper to him as well.

There’s still a wrinkled won bill inside his jeans pocket so Felix places it on her hand almost as an afterthought, huffing when the fingers seize and her entire body starts vibrating with her usual greed.

“Try to take better care of yourself, alright? Don’t wait for me for dinner. Actually, maybe you shouldn't wait for me for breakfast either. You know customers are always more willing to spend on cheap McDonalds breakfast when they’re hangover.”

Judging by the violent thrashing of her limbs and the soul piercing scream that leaves her mouth in angry clouds of foam, she doesn’t seem to want conversation.

Well, not Felix’s problem. There are deliveries to be made since _some people_ don’t have the parental privilege of living off their own children.

A shadow scurries between his ankles when he passes by the moaning couch, but Felix doesn’t have time to feed the new creature that has replaced their missing cat. They have yet to find out what exactly it eats as it has shown no taste for industrial cat food nor the small animals Olivia smuggles from her biology classes, but at least it sucks off the liquid that sometimes leaks from the walls.

The front door slams shut just as Felix turns around to bid Mom farewell, and that’s when it occurs him that something’s wrong.

He forgot to get his keys.

* * *

Being on the top five most efficient delivery boys means Felix gets access to a number of additional features to his services’ profile, such as priority choice over better tipping orders as well as discount coupons for bicycle gear. So far the LED flashlights have been paying off the ridiculously expensive lease on them, as they have managed to cut down the number of driving accidents by half when Felix can actually _see_ when something is chasing him.

The taekwondo for kids class he took in kindergarten is barely enough to protect him from the actual encounters with the wild and vicious unknown though, so self defense classes may be his next big investment after finishing paying the second hand bicycle he depends on to work. You can’t exactly trust these things to have you covered when their prior owners’ anguish can still be heard in the squeaking cry of the tires. It doesn’t bode particularly well when the last owner of Felix’s bike died of indescribable reasons.

Well, at least the price was a bargain.

Felix brakes by the curb in front of _Hyunjin’s 24 hour Delight_ and takes a moment to check his phone. There’s a considerable amount of tedious spam messages, ranging from poorly written bank scam links to anonymous numbers sending pictures of his house every hour or so, no captions attached except for the word “ _easy.”_

Easy what, exactly? Easy for a burglar to break into their house and take the little valuable things they have left, such as Olivia’s collection of preserved bird skeletons? It’s not as if someone hasn’t tried that before and faced the wrath of a teenage girl speaking in tongues that melt flesh down to a pulp.

But cleaning after someone else’s gore isn’t on Felix’s favorite list of activities, so he decides that the best reply to a picture of his mom glaring at the photographer through the front window of their apartment, the massive shadow that lives under their couch looming over her back, is fifteen individual messages of a single middle finger emoji.

“Stop acting like a psycho, I’m just doing my job!”

Jisung sprints out of _Delight’s_ doors barely in time to dodge the knife Felix recognizes as Hyunjin’s weapon of choice whenever things get a little too heated in their restaurant kitchen. It’s Minho who comes out next, both to appease Jisung’s nerves and to retrieve the knife that has cracked the window of the rival bar across the street. The offense feels deliberately calculated, which is Hyunjin’s chef signature along with a casual dash of their secret metallic tasting sauce on every dish they serve. Desserts included.

“Hyunjinie sure becomes moody on weekends, right.”

“ _Moody?_ I’d say he gets homicidal, and I’m pretty sure that’s the only mood he has. I want to switch shifts with Changbin hyung.”

“You know I can’t do that, Hanie.”

Jisung’s face grows sriracha red—and that’s not a metaphor. The saucy heat of his anger comes in air distortion waves that infect every stomach in the vicinity with dreams of huge all-you-can-eat buffets. Felix is certainly no exception, and perhaps hunger has finally started corroding his brain matter, because he swears Changbin’s head momentaneously replaces Jisung’s to argue with Minho for exactly five seconds before Ryujin steps out of _Delight’s_ and unloads a bucketful of foul smelling water on him. Also strategically missing Minho.

“Sorry,” she offers an apologetic smile that has long bro-zoned Jisung, yet it has never failed to tame his temper. Another of Hyunjin’s weapons of choice for keeping his least favorite waiter straight. Pun not intended. “Boss told me to come get you guys already, these orders are not gonna pack themselves no matter how nicely Yeji unnie asks them to. We have a special delivery tonight, after all.”

The three of them turn their heads to Felix at that very moment, Minho at an ambiguously odd angle that looks just uncomfortable enough to the average human. None blink or move for an unsettling amount of time, nor do any of the passersby whose frozen glares collectively target Felix.

He is just vaguely aware of the clammy feeling of his hands against the handle of his bike, an inconvenience really, when his phone decides to slip off his grip and fall face first on the ground.

“Shoot,” he curses, and as he crouches to retrieve the phone, something sharp flies right past the top of his left ear.

The pained wailing of whatever has collapsed behind him sends everybody back into motion. 

Jisung whines out loud at his now dripping uniform, but doesn’t fight back when Ryujin ushers him inside the restaurant with another one of her disarming smiles. She stays behind offering bows to indifferent passersby who don’t seem particularly bothered by the fish entrails now littering the sidewalk, and she even winks when Felix’s eyes find hers. But Ryujin’s attention is quickly walled by Minho’s disproportionally large shadow hovering him. 

Minho’s mouth doesn’t move—not _that_ mouth anyways—yet a loud squelch comes from the same spot behind Felix’s back where something is crying in agony. When he looks over his shoulder though, all that remains in the crime scene is Minho’s shadow and Hyunjin’s knife lodged in the concrete.

Minho touches the wetness on Felix’s left ear, but Felix doesn’t so much as flinch at the sight of his own blood. 

“Don’t let Hyunjin know my aim isn’t as good as his, alright?”

“No promises, hyung. Unless you can get me a free bowl of that seafood soup.”

“Make it two.”

* * *

Delight is the last word Felix would use to describe Hyunjin’s actual state of mind during the alleged 24 hours of restaurant service. With his emotional range restricted to anger, frustration, and a sadistic desire to torment Jisung, _Delight’s_ happy hour has long included their altercations as entertainment. When an informal betting culture had started to form among customers, Minho decided to monetize their bloodthirst by advertising both Hyunjin’s and Jisung’s victories and defeats on the giant mural hanging behind the cash register, which Yeji fixes every round as their honorary ring girl.

The numbers are arbitrarily assigned, of course—no one can keep track of how fast their arguments actually come and go, but a twenty five profit growth is not something to ignore. Yeji certainly doesn’t, as she smiles wide and sweet at the customers coming up to offer her their bets. They’re much too distracted by her charm to bother counting how much money they’re actually handing over, which Yeji kindly never corrects. The customer is always right, after all.

“Thank you, dear customer!” She bows ninety degrees after someone slips a stack of fifty thousand _won_ bills into Hyunjin’s pot. “We are certain that tonight won’t disappoint you!”

Felix rummages through his pockets but there is no spare change left after he gave Mom the last of his money earlier today. Yeji just winks at him and discreetly slips some bills off Jisung’s pot to place it in Hyunjin’s.

“Hey, how did you know I was gonna bet on him?”

“You’re not exactly hard to read,” she says, head tipped to the side in her ever knowing suggestive look. “Plus, my brother is feeling extra feisty tonight.”

“Oh? Why so?”

The conspiratorial tendrils of her pigtails reveal nothing as they curl to hide her smile.

Minho beckons Felix to the stools by the open kitchen area, a much privileged seat to watch Jisung’s head morphing back and forth between himself, Chan, and Changbin, all in different stages of negotiating with a very outraged Hyunjin chopping vegetables like a madman. Bits of cabbage and green onion fly everywhere, providing customers with free appetizers for their engagement in today’s fight.

“Here.” Minho places the biggest serving bowl of their spicy seafood noodle soup in front of Felix. Their ingredients are carefully selected and harvested every morning to guarantee an unparalleled freshness, which probably explains why the octopus pieces keep bolting to the bottom of the bowl each time Felix tries to pick them up with his chopsticks. “You probably haven’t eaten enough today.”

“Does half a can of redbull count?”

Minho and his ever present shadow grimace in disgust.

“Definitely not. Eat, Hyunjin made it just for you.”

The sound of his name seems to summon the final form of Hyunjin’s rage, for he slams both cleavers in his hands into the cutting board and prepares to fight Jisung barehanded.

“Wow, Hyunjin,” Felix says, mouth full of the first decent meal he’s had in days. “This is delicious.”

Hyunjin’s punch stops just millimeters away from landing square on Jisung’s nose, and you can actually see the steam rising from his body as his temper cools down to his usual mild irritation. Ryujin smuggles Jisung to the storage room after he half faints from shock, and Yeji promptly walks around with a placade announcing Hyunjin’s victory, to over half the restaurant’s standing ovation.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin sighs, more tired than irritated now, having finally gone back to regular chef mode. “It’s good to know _someone_ appreciates me in here.”

The jab is directed at Minho, who could not look any less bothered while calculating tonight’s profit with Yeji. A lukewarm thumbs up is all Hyunjin manages to get from him, which under normal circumstances would drive him homicidal once more, but somehow only gets a disdainful eye roll this time. Perhaps the rumours are right and their frenemies status is starting to lean more on the friend side of the scale.

“Can I repeat? I’m kinda more broke than usual so I’ll be making deliveries all night long.”

“Sure.” Hyunjin replaces the empty bowl for a new one, and this time Felix is quick enough to stab an octopus piece before it flees. “Things are tough with your mom?”

“Yeah.” Felix slurps the soup in under five minutes, which is one of the many useful skills he’s developed since becoming precarious labor. “Ever since she got that thing living under our couch she’s been spending all of my money trying to send it away.”

Felix’s relationship with his mom has never been harmonious, to say the least, but things escalated rather unpredictably once Olivia had a psychic awakening at the age of thirteen. Megalomaniac as teenagers always are, she proceeded to build herself a career as the next urban myth sensation based on this Hell Girl anime she won’t stop watching, inspiring mother to pursue her own unfulfilled dreams.

Unfortunately, Mom’s own endeavour in the beyond realm has severely impacted their savings to only questionable results so far, if intrusive guests in their house can attest for anything. Felix certainly attempts to be a hospitable host, but a low sense of privacy on their part translates to him often waking up to suffocating weights on his chest or shadows roaming over his skin.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Hyunjin smiles, sympathetic, and while Felix appreciates it deeply he is pretty sure that monologue took place inside his head with no verbal manifestation. “You want another bowl?”

“Ah, it’s okay, I’m already full. Besides, I should probably get going.” Felix browses through the app on his phone to check the order under the ongoing deliveries tab. “I came to pick up an order, actually. What is this God's Menu?” 

The cleaver in Hyunjin's hands skids over the cutting board and clatters on the floor.

“Oh.” Hyunjin’s voice wavers between embarrassment and poorly concealed curiosity as he picks up the cleaver and washes it on the sink. “So you’re the one who came to pick it up?”

“Yeah, it was listed as a top priority order. I think I’m gonna make like, three times my usual tip. Is it a new dish? Can I try it?”

Hyunjin squeaks in giddy excitement, and he nearly drops the cleaver again when a pile of bento boxes is placed on the counter. Minho's smile is feline sharp, half proud and half feral as he stares Hyunjin down in warning.

“Sure you can," he says this to Felix, smile tamer yet full of stealthy mischief. "But first, let’s not make that customer wait any longer.”

* * *

“Why can’t I just ride my bike there?”

Yeji scowls at her phone after refreshing the ride service app for the tenth time in the span of two minutes. The same default message is displayed on the screen in bold red letters: **_YOUR UBER IS UNDERWAY CAN YOU FUCKING RELAX FOR A MINUTE AND JUST WAIT_** , which doesn’t sound half as threatening as the unintelligible words Yeji mutters straight into the speaker. The phone convulses in her hand before it shuts down completely.

She throws Felix an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, was just giving them a one star in advance for making you wait. Since this is a special delivery, we have to follow protocol.”

“Protocol?”

Instead of answering, Yeji squints down the street. A thick cloud of fog has blocked the view completely, but aside from the occasional shrieks and wet splashes of gore unlucky passersby leave behind, businesses go by as usual.

In fact, Felix spots several acquaintances wrestling free of the oddly corporeal tendrils of fog to load their bikes, motorcycles and other assorted means of transportation with over five simultaneous orders. Tonight’s competitive delivery race probably involves a grand prize such as five hundred reputation points or a thirty day health insurance trial, which would certainly come in handy for Felix's growing wisdom teeth.

Yet here he is, stranded with a single order whose mysterious protocol is causing Felix to drop ranks faster than he can probably recover them if he doesn't start moving right now. 

“Yeji-ya, I really think I could just–”

“Oh, they’re here!”

Three men dressed in traditional Joseon clothes emerge from the fog, balancing a very precarious wooden palanquin on their shoulders. You’d expect a more fancy vehicle for the exorbitant price of an UberBlack car, but the truth is often embellished to appeal to clientele. Felix himself is under the Premium Delivery Service catalogue for his outstanding delivering time records, which essentially boils down to a desperate need to make ends meet. Sickly pale, dark bags under their eyes, and the jittery attitude of someone who has just downed four energetic drinks in a row, the drivers’ custom service smiles are much too familiar. 

“Ey, sorry for the lateness,” says one of them, a lanky guy wearing a pair of glasses that makes him look exactly like that chicken boy from that conglomerate movie franchise. “We were accidentally derailed by a ghoulish old woman who wouldn’t stop showing up at every traffic light to ask us for help to cross the street.”

“Did you help her?”

When Felix slides the palanquin door open to assess his accommodations, he is met by a huge, luxurious room with its own private suite to the back and crystal chandeliers hanging from an impossibly high ceiling. The decoration is not exactly to his liking, what with all the Western furniture and chubby white angels motif everywhere, but it surely justifies Yeji resurrecting her phone to leave the ride a more favorable review.

“I mean, we tried.” The chicken guy shrugs. He nods to the back of the palanquin, where a single man carries both rear poles. “But you can see we’re one man down here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” The guy’s face muscles pull back in a stiff smile both rubbery and taut, as though the skin has dried out the wrong way. “We’re zombies anyways, Bob will be back in a minute. The name’s Jae, by the way. Hop on, kid, we’ll make it worth the five star rating.”

* * *

Dreams are a rare occurrence when you are surviving on approximately three hours of sleep per day trying to make a living. All things considered, sleeping at all is a waste of time. The disadvantages include not only less available work hours, but also the inconvenient visits of whoever Olivia has managed to infuriate in her latest attempt at bargaining with the unknown.

The tricky part is that payment doesn’t always involve a monetary transaction, and the undisclosed sums mean, for instance, that Felix has no way to know when loaning out his body for the weird tattoos roaming his skin will ever come to an end. But a cursed lineage isn’t exactly a desirable trait to add to his resumé so he abides, like the good son and brother he is.

If he is lucky, the negotiation is pretty straightforward. Sit down, be subjected to twenty three different types of spiritual torture, wait until the creature’s wrath eventually subsides and they establish a price. Easy peasy.

Unfortunately for Felix, things are not always that simple.

Seven girls dressed in bright orange race suits and blackout helmets face him in a circle, stark silent in an empty racing car circuit. Not the most bizarre ensemble to ever reception him, but there’s something slightly unsettling about their perfect circular formation. It’s almost as if Felix has been placed at the very center of some sort of sacrifice ritual. _Again._

“Uh.” Felix clears his throat. “So, what does my sister owe you guys this time?”

None of the girls react.

“Sorry, I’m currently broke and all that. I already have three other spirits on a waiting list to make me their physical host. Maybe we can discuss the terms of Olivia’s debt?”

A considerable amount of time passes before one of the girls move. The one immediately facing Felix beckons him closer with a gloved hand, having perhaps made up her mind and agreed to his offer.

Felix’s reflection becomes increasingly distorted in the pitch black face shield of her helmet as he approaches her. Once he is close enough that he’s turned into an unrecognizable dark mass, the girl lifts her face shield.

“Holy _shi—_ ”

The palanquin jolts from a rough turn on the road, catapulting Felix off the king size bed and face first into the marble floor of the suite.

A loose molar at the back of his mouth is almost a trivial work accident next to bursting out of a creditor meeting, which is certainly not covered by his nonexistent health insurance. It’s not his most humiliating act to date but certainly on the notable hall, along with accidentally being recruited to a religious cult once, and that one time he decided to bet his savings on Jisung. The latter still gives Felix nightmares from the amount of money he lost that night.

Felix scrambles to collect himself for the impending consequences of his rude dream exit when he notices something moving in his periphery.

There is a person curled on the floor, a hand gripping the stack of bento boxes of God's Menu, the other massaging their bruised forehead. They do not resemble the abominable _thing_ he’s just seen in a dream, but Felix has long learned not to be fooled by a little shapeshifting. The unknown have, after all, the sort of freedom to come and go that humans can only witness with a mix of jealousy and horror at their own limited existential condition.

There’s a simultaneously sweet and sly quality to the pair of dark eyes that stare back at Felix. An ambiguous sort of beauty that is deceiving, like that of a small animal whose innocent looks betray their predator nature. Like a desert fox, perhaps, had the person had a single tail instead of nine.

“Uh, hey,” Felix stammers. “Sorry about my rudeness earlier, but I swear I will pay back whatever Olivia owes you. Can you return that package, please? I swear we can discuss your price after this delivery.”

The person frowns in confusion at first, before exposing a row of dagger sharp teeth when they smile.

“I swear,” Felix insists. “Pinky promise.”

The person snickers, their eyes aglow with malice.

“Oh, you don’t really know just what you got yourself into with this, do you?”

Felix has no time to bargain his soul when all of a sudden the palanquin door is ripped open.

“Jeongin!” Jae gasps. “I knew that smell had to be you, get out of the car!”

The nine tailed person hisses angrily but stays silent during most of Jae’s scolding, only arguing back once Jae threatens to tell a guy named Brian about this incident. Felix can barely keep up with their heated exchange, and is only mildly concerned that Jeongin might slip away with his package when Jae kicks him out of the palanquin.

“And give that back, it’s not yours!” Jae snatches the stack of bento boxes out of Jeongin’s hands at the last minute, shutting the door as Jeongin leaves. “Whew. Sorry for the trouble, kid,” he says this to Felix. “That was my best friend’s little bro. He’s usually a nice kid, so I have no idea how he sneaked in the car when I wasn’t looking. Never trust a _gumiho_ with a human meal, I guess.”

“It’s fine. At least he didn’t take my delivery away.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Jae smiles, and once again it twists his face with a grotesque pull of dried skin. “By the way, we’ve arrived.”

* * *

The customer lives in an apartment complex that is a cookie cutter replica of every other cheap student housing that has been infesting university areas, unremarkable in all aspects except for a discreet but persistent sweet sour stench of body odors. Not an uncommon site compared to Felix’s average delivery, certainly not what he had pictured as demanding being personally escorted by a private riding service. The address doesn’t even seem to be outside the metropolitan districts of Seoul, though for a lapse of memory Felix is unable to precisely name just where it is.

Knowing landlords don’t spare a single available square for an elevator where they can shove an extra room, Felix doesn’t bother checking for one. The only inconvenience about staircases is that they’re usually too narrow to fit two people side by side, and that turns into a major inconvenience when Felix is hindered by a pair of residents obsessively walking up and down between floors two and three, in mechanic steps as if they’re stuck in a loop. Felix is only able to get through them by informing where he’s headed, which freezes both residents in motion. Judging by the lack of the _tap-tap-tap_ of their footsteps even after Felix has climbed up, they are probably now stuck forever in place.

Well, not Felix’s problem.

Apartment 404 is the room shoved in the farthest corner of a dimly lit corridor, isolated from the rest of the floor by an absolute darkness interrupted only by a naked light bulb flickering on and off at erratic intervals. Felix isn’t one to believe in unlucky numbers, but he guesses a dash of misfortune is a fair price to pay for an affordable rent in an increasingly gentrified neighbourhood. Perhaps he should consider asking around for vacant spots as an alternative plan in case Mom’s unwanted guests get the family evicted.

Felix knocks on the door to announce his arrival and opens the app on his phone to confirm it as well, only to realize there’s no service. Not an uncommon occurrence given dirty cheap phone plans are bound to have questionable functionality, but not ideal either since he can’t browse through the app and select the next delivery while waiting for the current customer to pick up the door.

Ten minutes pass without an answer.

“Hello?” Felix knocks again. “Customer? It’s your delivery for God's Menu.”

The lights blink on and off, emitting a low buzz that snaps every now and then, threatening to short circuit. Still no one answers, and there isn’t even a doorbell to ring for emphasis. In fact, now that Felix examines the wall, he realizes there isn’t even a doorknob at all.

The lights stabilize for a minute, and a small bowl appears on the floor. Above it, there’s a note with only a single word in it: _offerings._

“Should I just leave your order and go?” Felix asks out loud, replacing the bowl for the bento boxes. “Please review me nicely on the app.”

The lights go out.

Felix turns on the flashlight on his phone and it’s only mildly surprised to see someone standing where there was only the closed door before. They don’t seem to have come through the door anyways, and their lack of reaction at the blaring light pointed to their face isn’t exactly enlightening on their intentions until they reach inside their pocket and get out a credit card.

“Oh, it’s already paid,” Felix reminds them. “You paid through our app, remember? I just need you to confirm you’ve gotten your delivery.”

But the person doesn’t make it to reach for their phone and Felix realizes he’s left the card machine with his bike back at _Delight_ , which leaves them in a pretty awkward situation. Felix wonders if he can get away with just handing the order to the customer and pray he isn’t mistaken that they did pay beforehand, otherwise that would mean he would have to bear the costs of this delivery.

The customer suddenly grabs Felix’s wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” Felix profusely apologizes, invoking all of his best customer service tactics to dispel this conflict. “I seem to have forgotten to bring the card machine. I can’t take your payment right now and I have no phone service to contact the app support. You should probably call the restaurant and make a new order. I’m deeply sorry about this inconvenience.”

The customer remains silent and expressionless, but the iron grip they have on Felix is starting to cut off the circulation in his hand. Unsatisfied customers are on Felix’s top three most dangerous encounters to have, for their humor is highly volatile due to hunger and they are prone to leave really unfavorable reviews.

“Hello?”

Felix turns to face the other end of the corridor, where lights are still fairly functional in contrast to the one dimensional absolute dark void where he stands. A guy comes up the stairs, holding a phone to his ear.

“Are you Felix, the delivery boy?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Hey, I’m Seungmin, I was trying to call you. Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was saying hello to my friends downstairs and I probably missed you coming up.”

The lights above Apartment 404 turn back on as Seungmin approaches. Whoever it was that Felix had seen before has vanished, and in their place, a regular door faces him. Doorbell and doorknob included, as if they were never not there.

“No problem. I thought you wanted to pay with credit card.”

“Ah no, that was the guy from Apartment 704. He tries to snatch everyone’s deliveries if we aren’t paying attention, but luckily I got here just in time. Couldn’t have him just take my dinner away."

Felix doesn’t question the fact the building has only four floors in total, therefore Apartment 704 is not exactly a plausible thing. The moment his phone pings with a notif on Seungmin’s confirmation of his delivery arrival, the matter has already left his mind.

“I will be leaving then. Thanks for using our services!”

"No problem. Oh, and here's a little something for your trouble."

Seungmin offers him a coin whose surface is crusted with centuries of rust and grime, and despite the complete lack of any sort of inscribing of its value, it looks oddly like legitimate Joseon currency. Accepting tips is usually against courtesy rules, but Felix was never one to turn down the chance to pocket an extra _won_ or two, even during the times he’s tipped in those paper bills burned at funerals. _Ghost money_ still counts as money, right?

"Thank you." Felix makes sure to bow to show his gratitude. “You shouldn’t have had the trouble to tip me.”

"Oh but this isn't a tip, this is a good luck charm.” Seungmin pats him on the shoulder. “Trust me, you'll need it."

The palanquin is still parked across the street, patiently waiting for Felix’s return. Despite that, Jae looks almost surprised to see him again, as if he hadn’t expected Felix to make it out alive of whatever probation this delivery was. Or maybe that’s just the regular state of his face, given the limited range of a zombie’s expressiveness. He does however attempt another smile as he opens the door for Felix to climb in.

"All good there?"

"Yeah, and I already got a new order to pick up. Can you take me back to _Delight_ in record time? I’m kinda falling behind on the general delivery ranking and I really want to get that health insurance trial.”

Just as Jae is about to slide the door close, the coin slips out of Felix's pocket. As he reaches out to retrieve it, he chances a last look outside. Where there should have been the building he just got out from, there’s only an empty lot left behind.

* * *

The remainder of the night is mostly uneventful, save for the occasional need to escape surprise chasing ambushes from creatures and cars alike. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, and Felix manages to come out only superficially scarred. He even squeezes enough orders in time to finish second place in the delivery competition, and while that doesn’t win him that health insurance trial, the additional reputation points he accumulates are enough to keep his premium deliver status for the moment.

Rumour has it that there are plans for an app revamp that will offer better discount coupons for customers while drastically reducing the already meager commission delivery people earn per order. There aren’t many options left for Felix after having worked for all of the major companies and switching around only to find out paying rates are essentially the same everywhere. Overworking himself is only a temporary solution to a permanent state of exploitation, but there are only so many ways to pay the bills without resorting to blood pacts. 

Orders begin thinning out as night leads into morning, but Felix decides to pull an all nighter to cover breakfast orders as well. Not the most profitable shift hours, but Mom doesn’t seem to want him at home judging by the **_DON’T COME BACK_ **messages he gets every half an hour, along with some cryptid pictures he can’t really make sense of. Must be one of her moods, and Felix could honestly do without them.

He considers crashing for a couple of minutes at the twenty four hour convenience store whose manager always saves the barely expired sandwiches for him, but a message comes up on his phone.

**hwang yeji @ 4:39 am**

_you still working?_

**felix lee @ 4:40 am**

_yeah i was gonna nap for a minute and then do breakfast deliveries_

**hwang yeji @ 4:42 am**

_oh come join us then_

_we’ll have a hotpot celebration for hyunjin’s 500th victory over jisung!_

**felix lee @ 4:44 am**

_a hotpot at 5 am?_

**hwang yeji @ 4:46 am**

_it’s on the house_

**felix lee @ 4:47 am**

_on my way!!!_

The entire dining area of Delight is littered with equal parts paper confetti and splashes of fresh, bright blood, when Felix arrives. Yeji’s retelling of the showdown paints an epic, unforgiving clash of fine cuisine and egos, not unlike those sensationalist reality cooking programs Mom loves. Except maybe with a tad less carnage involved. Jisung is nowhere to be seen, having probably absconded from shame at being defeated once more.

Everybody is still half breathless while discussing their favorite parts of Hyunjin’s victory around a simmering pan of broth. Apparently Hyunjin had more fire blowing tricks under his belt than anybody had anticipated, not to mention the incredible blindfolded knives juggling while rapping a ten minute long diss track about Jisung’s fashion sense or the lack thereof. Felix can only keep up with so much while trying to chomp down all of the vegetables, noodles and beef his stomach can handle before another full work day.

“Your appetite is incredible,” Hyunjin chuckles, passing Felix a glass of water when he chokes on a piece of fish ball. “Work was hectic today?”

“More or less,” Felix coughs, punches his chest while gulping down that water. “Thank you. Though it’s been less life threatening than some other nights. Guess that good luck charm really worked out.”

“Good luck charm?”

“Yeah, a customer tipped me an ancient coin after I delivered him that God's Menu. By the way, I saw the receipt for that on the app and it was _a lot_. Is it a premium meat or something?”

Hyunjin face grows suddenly red. Steam rises from his body, boiling hotter than the actual hot pot the others have stopped eating from to watch their conversation. The silence is loaded with a sort of restless anticipation Felix doesn’t quite understand until Minho emerges from the kitchen holding a covered plate. He places it in front of Felix, grinning wide.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Minho lifts the lid with a flourish to reveal beautifully marbled, thinly sliced pieces of meat that have the same vibrant color of every unaffordable dish Felix only knows from delivering them, not consuming. A balanced meal is otherworldly enough compared to the average instant noodles he has when not relying on acquaintances’s generosity to keep him alive. A gourmet meal such as this is entirely unreal.

“For me?”

“For you.” Minho nods. “I curated them myself.”

God's Menu does its name justice from the very first bite Felix has of the most tender slice of meat he’ll never have the privilege to have again, the fat melting on his tongue like honey, seasoned just right to make its natural flavor shine. A single bite of it equals to six months worth of rent, a luxury Felix’s mind can’t even process in its entirety. Perhaps it’s his enthusiastic reaction that gets wide eyed stares from the others, who watch Felix eat slice after slice without taking any for themselves.

“This is really too much, you guys,” Felix says around a mouthful of beef. “I almost feel bad that Jisung isn’t here to share this. This tastes amazing.”

Hyunjin makes a strangled noise, halfway through snickering and choking. Ryujin bats her eyes at Felix with interest, while Yeji keeps fidgeting with her chopsticks. But it’s Minho who speaks up, after serving Felix another piece of meat.

“Say, Felix,” he asks, entirely nonchalant. “What does it taste like?”

“Very tender? And oh, slightly spicy. The seasoning is excellent, by the way. And kind of familiar, actually.”

“Is it?”

Minho cocks his head, eyebrows raised. It’s not a question, not really. Not one Felix can answer right away with his plate full and Minho refilling it almost carefully, perhaps an encouragement for Felix to work his thoughts on the exact flavor he’s trying to remember. It’s a particularly vivid, bright chili sauce spice, that becomes clearer the more Felix keeps on eating. Something about it makes him think of Jisung, so maybe it’s sriracha Felix is tasting, though that’s an uncommon sauce for meat. Unless it’s not the sauce he’s tasting, but—

Felix stops chewing.

“God's Menu is human meat?”

Minho’s smile is impossibly dark.

“Most suitable for the palate of gods. And now, of course, _you._ ”

Felix stares at the now empty plate of meat he ate by himself. The others hold his gaze as he looks at them, one at a time, weighting the realization of what he has just done.

Felix blinks.

He swallows.

And then he shrugs.

“Can I get more? It’s really good.”

Laughter erupts around the table. Ryujin keeps on bragging that she was right about him all this time, and Yeji giggles to the point her pigtails have to come to rescue before she hexes someone. Hyunjin needs to dunk his head into an ice bucket to cool down from the giddiness possessing his body, but it’s Minho who looks almost proud of Felix’s answer. As if he had passed a test.

“We were all thinking about this for a while, by the way,” Minho says, after fetching another batch of God's Menu for him. “Do you want to work here with us?”

“For real?! A full time job? _With minimum wage?!_ ”

“And all God's Menu you can eat.” Minho winks, and so does his shadow. “On the house.”

  
  
  
  


_(Later that morning, just as Yeji is about to take down Jisung’s name from the mural, someone barges through the front door._

_"Not so quick!” Jisung yells, sriracha heat distorting around his face, burning away the layers of assorted trash and rotten leftovers covering his uniform, as if he’d dug himself out of a dumpster. “I want a rematch!"_

_Felix turns to Minho, whose innocent smile doesn’t offer much explanation._

_"So we didn't eat Jisung after all?"_

_"Why do you sound almost disappointed, Felix?")_

**Author's Note:**

> got you there right? hehe
> 
> kudos and comments are much appreciated <3 you can find me on twitter and cc @hyeonlix!
> 
> thanks for reading!


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